Hey Guys.
Welcome to my new Fanfic, one which I am planning to do a comic with as well. That will be on my Deviant Art Profile, and I'll make announcements on here when that is released so keep an eye out if that's something you're interested in.
Anyways, on with the story.
Please enjoy
Such Is The Nature Of Things
Chapter One: To You I Owe My Life
Prince Jack
The boy pulled the hood of his cloak further down, keeping his white hair hidden from curious eyes sneaking a glance as they passed this way and beyond. "My Lord, I must insist this is a poor idea," Bunnymund called softly from behind; his eyes alert and cautious, wandering for any sign of danger.
Now and again, someone caught his eye; those with an unnerving shiftiness one would usually find skulking in a back alley, sheltered by shadows and their own ignorance.
Rat-like in personality. Snake-like in tongue.
These did not go unnoticed, the guard's hand itching for the cool of his sword. his body was also wrapped in the dark cloth of a plain grey cloak, like the boy before him, his face hidden behind the folds.
The pair held no suspicion in the town. Anyone who cared to take notice would just assume they were comforting themselves from the rarely harsh wind of a beautiful October day. They wouldn't think twice of two people exploring the city, passing stone houses and stone walls of the City streets.
"Sssh Bunny," the boy said, sat astride the creature in front, only half of his body turned so he could see his guard behind. "You'll give us away if you keep calling me 'My Lord,' all the time. We are meant to be incognito, remember?" He clicked his heels lightly and willed his beast to continue his steady pace forward, the duct kicking up from his feet, listening to the gentle tap of shoe upon cobblestone with every new step forward.
They ventured deeper into the city, passing busy market stalls where merchants called out to advertise their goods, reeling in customers to buy produce and various trinkets laid out on display.
Incognito, Bunnymund thought, his troubled mind unable to understand his master's simple wishes. How could they explore the city without being noticed, if the Prince was happily parading around on his Bewilderbeast; a large stag creature, adorned with blue tinted fur and white war paint, pattering his breast, face and antlers.
It wasn't the usual beast anyone would see on a normal day, casually strolling along as if it were in an open field, or wild forest. Not here in the heart of the city, with a fur coat more vibrant that the common bland grey or simple brown shades the people were used to….
Bunnymund himself was riding an ordinary stay, slightly smaller than the Prince's, the fur of his mount a beautiful gold, just like the rays of sunshine that shone down on them. He too was decorated with war paint; patterned across his breast also.
But somehow, the pair didn't seem to be getting as much attention as the bodyguard had expected when the Prince first suggested the outing. Maybe the people weren't as unaccustomed to Bewilderbeast as Bunnymund had initially thought. Or they had simply grown accustomed to it…
"You've done this before! Haven't you?" Bunnymund hissed when he noticed a small group of citizens slyly nod their heads in the Prince's direction, to which the boy politely raise his hand, keeping his head up. "And I bet this isn't simply the second time either!"
The white haired boy turned his head, his usual mischievous smile playing gently on his lips. "And what, Dear Bunnymund, gave you that idea?"
Bunnymund simply scowled in response, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You are the Prince. Do you understand what that means?" Prince Jack's smile faltered. If Bunnymund had blinked, he would have missed it…
"Yes," the Prince said, his smile returning, although he could not disguise the sigh that slipped from between his lips. The moment had gone with the Autumn Breeze.
Had Bunnymund imagined it? No.
It became obvious from the boy's tone as he spoke words as if recited from a poetry void of emotion.
"I am Prince. In the future, I am to be King. And with that title comes council meetings, war talks and speeches at balls and banquets I would be forced to attend, making small talk with Lords and hopelessly flirting with Ladies who may even be twice my age."
"Even now I have endless lessons prepared in preparation for me to govern the country. An endless itinerary of meetings and lessons from tutors and teachers."
Prince Jack smiled to himself, his eyes staring far off into the distance, full of a precious light as he wished for something he could never have. Something that was just at the tip of his fingers but dancing just out of reach.
"Before Father announced my coming of age ceremony, my days were already packed. Now I have more lessons: Dancing and Etiquette lessons, Music, Language, History and Sword Fighting as well as Horse Riding, Hunting and War Strategy. And with all the extra lessons and new tutors and more hours in that wretched study."
The Prince's voice was becoming heated, his emotions getting the better of him, here now where his guard was down and he was talking to Bunnymund like an old friend, and not a soldier, for who he really was.
Realising his mistake, Jack reined in his emotions, his voice dropping back to the calm, quiet volume it had been before. Jack sighed. "As if I wasn't busy enough…"
His sentence trailed off as he continued forward. He kept his face set ahead, away from Bunnymund's searching eyes. But the guard knew how he was feeling. All from the tone of his saddened voice.
"Before my coronation… I wanted one last taste of freedom. You understand, don't you Bunny?"
It wasn't really a question, even though the Prince phrased it as one.
Yes, the older guard understood perfectly. The young boy's schedule was already so packed he barely had the energy to do what he wanted in the rare moments of the day when he was left to simply please himself.
But on the rare occasion of a morning off, or more likely when the boy just had enough, he would escape to the Northward forests behind the castle with Alpha, his blue Bewilderbeast.
He'd spend the day riding around the wilderness, getting his clothes dirty, much to the annoyance of the maids. He'd act like a child, climbing trees, splashing in rivers, running around like it was the first time he had experienced freedom….
The afternoons spent enjoying himself were few and far between, the free time he had decreasing ever more as the Coronation day loomed closer. It was heart-breaking really, for a spirited and energetic boy like Jack to be cooped up within the confines of the castle walls.
Bunnymund hadn't seen his charge for several days; the Prince being shut in his study, laboured with Tutors and Researchers alike, all wishing to share knowledge with the boy, who didn't necessarily need to know it, nor necessarily wanted to know.
Bunnymund had been present to several and even he knew when things were getting ridiculous.
But it wasn't just lessons and speeches that the Prince had to endure. When he wasn't trapped in his study, he was meeting guests and important figures who would fling themselves as his feet, grovelling for attention and praise.
Other men would try and squeeze land and money out of the boy, but Jack had learnt from a young age how to put such irritations in their place.
Conversations of War, politics and gossip would not be missed, but unavoidable all the same, crowded the boy's busy schedule…
The guests had started to arrive in preparation for the Prince's Eighteenth Birthday. Even the city was in full flight of excitement, the citizens having already decorated their homes for the coming celebrations.
Everyone was going out of their way to join in. Flowers of Alabaster white and Persian blue lined every window, bunches decorated every door frame. Trees had been wrapped in wreaths of colour and beautiful satin scarves; a mix of pearl, cobalt and rose, reflecting the blush of the late Autumn sky.
Every market stall was selling bouquets of similar colours, and flags embroidered with the crown's insignia. Many had already been hung from the buildings, trailing from one roof top to the other, all swinging gently in the breeze.
The entire city had been decorated with the hues of blue and white; the colours of the Kingdom of Burgess.
Jack smiled to himself. His kingdom was beautiful, and he was grateful that one day, he would be able to rule and watch over it.
But, those types of thoughts simply reminded the Prince of heavy burden that lay before him. The weight of the world on his shoulders.
He wouldn't express this out loud, but that idea scared him more than he wished to admit, even to himself.
Any distraction was gladly welcomed.
The anniversary of the boy's birth date was the first day of Winter, merely three weeks from to the day. It did seem a long time, but it was closer than Jack would've liked. His mother and father reminded him at every turn his responsibilities, his duties and the decisions he would have to make.
His tutors helped him revise proper etiquette that he had learnt since birth. Not that Jack always followed it. He wasn't doing so right now…
According to the Prince's schedule, he was meant to be attending a lesson in ballroom dancing.
Jack was currently not attending his lesson in ballroom dancing.
For four reasons.
One: the teacher actually couldn't keep in time to the music and was always getting it wrong anyway.
Two: Jack already knew how to dance. He could waltz since the age of five and salsa since the age of seven.
Three, Jack just couldn't be bothered just couldn't be bothered to spend another minute inside the stuffy castle. Even the grounds couldn't give him the space he needed. The castle walls made him feel trapped…
The fourth reason, and main reason for escaping, Jack kept to himself. That was a secret, and if Bunnymund knew, it would ruin everything.
It was best not to say a word.
The October weather was calm today. There was a gentle gust of a southerly breeze, bringing with it the warmth of the sandy beaches and hotter climates. Few clouds floated lazily in the sky. the leaves on the trees only just beginning to transform into precious golds, radiant oranges and the cardinal hues of fruits, once nestled amongst the branches, now harvested, ready to be feasted upon.
It was nearing Winter; Jack's favourite season of the four.
Winter was beautiful. Snow would fall like glittering stars twinkling as they descended from above, shimmering like diamonds as the intricate snowflakes lay upon the ground like a blanket. The whispering winds would sing the Kingdom its gentle lullaby of frozen lakes, the crisp crunch of fresh snow underfoot, and the bite of frost on bare skin.
The cool winter air would be full of children's laughing voices, sculpted ammo thrown at friends and unsuspecting victims. The snow-capped trees, the mist of warm breath in the air, the rainbow of light reflecting from the skies. The embrace of Winter.
The nights spent curled up in front of the fire, days filled with trekking through unexplored snow blankets. The tracks of animals late to clumber beneath the earth, the call of birds flying overhead heading for warmer weather. Mirror surfaces of frozen rivers, twisting and curling like a silk scarf of shimmering silver, carving its way through the icy wonderland.
Icicles clinging to roof linings and tree branches; Winter's treasure, sparkling like diamonds in the light of the cold Winter sun.
Winter was beautiful. But deadly. The ice that pulled victims to the ground, the numbing cold that came with the wind, sweeping through the city like a ghost, chilling those that were caught unaware.
But Burgess was accustomed to the cold and they endured. Just like every year, every Winter spent in the comfort of warm homes. The danger's weren't ignored, but they didn't dampen any spirits either. The arrival of Winter was celebrated and enjoyed. It only lasted three months of the year after all.
Jack spent most of the afternoon exploring the city. If Bunnymund didn't know better, he would be sure that he was looking for something. But certainly not…
Lunchtime had come and gone, the meal forgotten into the morning as the boy tracked his way through city streets. The only pressing matter to attend was dinner.
The Prince would be dining alone obviously. Mother had fallen ill recently. She was well and able to move about but usually by the late afternoon she would be too exhausted to do much more than retreat to her room for reading or sleep.
Father would still be in one of his many council meetings, and even when that finished, he would return to his chambers and sit beside his wife. They would discuss their day and share pleasantries before turning in, with a meal in the room.
Jack knew why his Father did this. He was scared. Scared that Mother wouldn't get better. That Mother would just get worse… and eventually, she wouldn't wake with the sunrise.
Jack knew because he fear it as well.
Bunnymund let Jack wander to his hearts content. He convinced himself as long as he stayed beside the Prince then everything would be okay. So Bunnymund stood vigil, ever alert for danger or a sign of ill-interest to the young boy.
Now and again the boy's hood would slip back, revealing bangs of snow white; an obvious sign of his stature. Bunnymund would warn the Prince, aware of the greedy glint in people's eyes. Wanting stared of men and women with twisted minds who in the darkest of places. Monsters, once kind and gently people, consumed up by greed and false promises of wealth and fame and fortune.
Bunnymund ushered the Prince on, steering him away from possible danger. The guard hoped to keep it from him, but the Prince knew. He fixed the suspected monsters with sharp stares.
A warning.
They would slink back into the shadows, tails between their legs, baring their fangs in defeated pride, their stares still wishful. Still hopeful.
Jack led the way through the city. The passed the main square, the merchants and traders still calling for people to buy their wares. The onto the Upper Yard, through the industry quarter. And past.
The Prince was getting more attention now. Bunnymund could feel himself becoming anxious. They had entered the poorer district of the city, where people were more desperate and bold.
Not brave. Determined stupidity driven by a different type of greed.
It was somewhere Bunnymund didn't want the Prince to roam…
Without warning, the boy pulled gently on his Beast's reigns; a silent request to stop. The Bewilderbeast replied in turn, his hooves pausing on the cobblestone, nickering at the odd request. It wasn't till Jack dropped from the saddled did Bunnymund realise his intentions.
"No My Lord. Not here." He steeled Cloudjumper, his beast beside the Prince's. He tried using his height and angry-tinted voice to try and talk to the boy, although he already knew doing so was simply a waste of breath.
Yet Bunnymund didn't back down. He clicked his heels and steered Cloudjumper to block the Prince's path. An obstacle that he had to look up and face.
"Bunnymund. I know what I'm doing."
Bunnymund didn't move. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the Prince's face. All it would take was one word; an order and Bunnymund would be forced to step aside.
But it would conflict with his oath. To do as the Prince asked. To protect the Prince, even at the cost of his own life.
Jack knew this.
That's why he was letting Bunny come to the conclusion himself.
It was Bunnymund's choice.
To stand his ground and escort the Prince back to the castle, to his inescapable prison; the boy's misery would be on his shoulders.
Or step aside and let the boy pass. Grant him a few more hours of freedom, before escorting him back to the castle.
Either way, Jack would end up back there, scolded by his teachers, his tutors and his Father. Afterall, it wouldn't do for the heir to wander the streets on his own whim.
Bunnymund growled to himself before dropping his gaze. "Keeping you safe is important my Prince. So please, can we not venture too far?"
Jack smiled, nodding his head slightly. "Thank you Bunny."
The guard just sighed, dismounting also, to stand a little in front of his Prince, using Cloudjumper to shield one side, instructing the boy to follow and be on guard.
"You're too cautious," the boy grinned in amusement. "There is no reason to take this lightly, your Majesty. You are Prince after all."
Jack nodded, but he didn't make anymore jokes. He understood that his part of town had dangers all of its own. And he knew that Bunny would do anything to keep him safe. So he resided himself to following the older man, making sure not to make eye contact with the people that gave the newcomers a wide berth. The whispers followed them growing louder. Their gazes open, glares directed at them both equally.
Bunnymund moved his hand slowly, pushing past the rough cloth of his cloak, letting his fingers rest on the hilt of his sword. He didn't conceal it from the people.
It was a warning. An open threat to anyone who dared to approach.
Bunnymund had given up trying to understand what the Prince was doing until he stopped outside a particular building. "Here Bunny," he said, reaching to Alpha's saddle. He pulled forth a small leather pouch that Bunnymund hadn't noticed. He concealed it within his cloak, moving tot he Beast's brow. He held Alpha's face in his hands, whispering gently.
Bunnymund, too faraway to hear….
"Give me Cloudjumper's reigns," Jack said, his hand held out. At first, Bunny didn't understand. He was confused, his eyes narrowed slightly, his lips forming a question, yet he didn't speak. With a brusque nod, the man handed over the reins, watching Jack loop them with Alpha's.
"Go boy, now!" A slap to the Beast's rump caused him to cry out, speeding off down the street, tugging Cloudjumper along. Bunnymund watched in silence, shocked, and now more worried than ever. He and the Prince were alone in the worst part of the city, their mounts racing away without their riders.
The two had snuck from the castle unnoticed so no one even knew where they were. And now, they were stranded.
Prince Jack stared at the dwelling, pointedly, the door of which they had stopped before. Then he turned to Bunny, his voice low and deadly serious. His own eyes were fixed on the crowds that were moving in, feet shuffling slowly, uncertainty keeping them at bay.
"Hide your sword and keep your hood up. Do not say a word, whatever you may hear or see. Let me deal with everything."
The Prince's tone gave Bunnymund no option than to nod, but that didn't mean he understood.
"I need your word." Jack's voice was sharp, like metal striking ice, his glare equally fierce as he stared at the older man.
The guard flinched. "Yes My Lord," he murmured, his words only for the Prince. Gently, he tugged at his cloak hood, bringing it further forward. "You have my word. I will not speak, nor act without your word."
Why though? What is this about?
But Jack's lips were sealed. He turned, and pushed past the wooden door that blocked their path and into the dark stuffy room of an old tavern, leaving the looming crowd behind. The windows were covered in a layer of dust and grime, acting as a veil, a brarrier to the sunlight outside. The darkness was fought with various candles around the room and an open fire in the centre, although now it was only glowing embers.
Benches were crowded with unsightly characters, noisy and cheerful, as if deluded by their merry drunken state. Girls screamed and laughed as they were grabbed and touched as part of a vulgar and dirty display of lust. Coarse language was thrown as insult, followed by fists and the occasional slanderous comment.
Bunnymund felt his hand drift lower, fingers around the hilt of his sword, but he had promised the Prince not to react to anything. And so, his hand fell to his belt instead, the sword remaining in its sheath.
Jack pulled at the corners of his cloak, hiding more of his face. The shadows helped.
Slowly, he moved further into the pub, keeping his eyes on the man behind the tavern bar on the far side.
He was a large man, muscled and fierce, loud as he slammed down the mug he had been wiping with a dirty rag, not bothering to give the newcomers a second glance. As if they weren't even worth the effort.
Bunnymund did all he could to remain placid, but it was hard to hide the disgust from his face. But there were other pressing matters, and he turned his mind to them as the young Prince marched straight up to the man at the far end of the room.
The guard followed half a pace slower, watching greedy eyes follow, the filth of a hungering look.
"I hear the Bard no longer plays his lute."
The muscled man raised and eyebrow, eyeing the Prince slowly. His guard did not understand. He waited patiently, suddenly aware of the deafening silence that had fallen upon the tavern. Not a soul moved, eyes on the pair as they they were suddenly a threat…
The tavern master smirked. "The Bard sold 'is lute fer ale."
There was a growl amongst the crow. Questions. Accusations. Amused laughter that held a threat in it's rumbling tone.
Bunnymund's hand tensed again, but it remained still.
"And bartered away his wench as well."
Prince Jack seemed cool and confident, his words resonating with a tone of absolute that had everyone holding their breath.
There was silence once more. A dark heavy silence.
Bunnymund felt the need to escape, to turn from here…
The tavern master raised his eyebrow again. Slow, as if he was trying to figure the Prince out. After a moment of scrutiny, he raised one hand and pointed to a door in the corner. Had he not, it would've gone unnoticed, camouflaged by the darkness.
"It's already started," the tavern master said, his thick accent gone. He didn't lift his eyes from what of Jack's face he could see.
The boy nodded, his eyes on the door. "I've not come for the show. There is a man I wish to meet."
"What business the Master has is not mine."
"But you wouldn't let me enter if I hadn't told you."
Jack seemed to be challenging the man, but also putting him in his place at the same time. He slid two gold coins onto the counter, waiting until the Tavern Master had accepted them before turning his back.
Without further words, Jack made his way to the corner, aware of the silence and Bunnymund's protective shadow behind. Before the Prince entered the room however, he turned back to the crowd, his hands ghosting over his cloak.
In one swift movement, he pulled back the material, revealing his pure white hair. It seemed to glow in the dark, grungy pub. A light of innocence amongst the greed of men. Several gasps were heard, murmurs of fear and confusion. They knew who this boy was. They knew all too well…
"I suggest you all leave," Jack said, using the same icy tone he had with Bunny, as he did when he made orders. "Quickly and quietly."
Without question, nor delay, the people did as he asked. One by one they rose from their chairs, no matter how drunk they seemed. It was as if the shock of seeing the Crowned Prince had sobered them up.
They left without a sound; muscled men creeping like mice, weak and unable to fight the boy's authority over them.
Bunnymund watched in nervous anticipation. "My Lord, is it okay to do this?" he asked quietly, watching as everyone filed out of the tavern. The Prince waited till every last man had left before turning to his guard. "It is necessary. But now, the real challenge awaits."
Silently he place his upon the rough wood and pushed. The aged door creaked slightly drawing in a foreboding feeling as it revealed the looming darkness behind. Jack felt himself slow his breathing watching slowly as a dusty stairwell appeared. It led down, further into the suffocating darkness.
"My Lord… must we?" Bunny was worried, his fingers clasped tightly around the hilt of his trusted blade. He knew its balance well, and trusted her to help him in a fight. And he trusted her now, when he was looking to a place that undoubtedly held monsters and demons in its depths.
"You do not have to come," Jack said softly, smiling gently as he stared into the swallowing abyss. He knew not of what horrors waited for him, but he knew there were horrors. Men with greed that preceded their sanity, monsters that cared not for others, doing things that only proved worth to them, if they gained something.
They did not care if it brought pain, suffering, or even death to anyone else, as long as they obtained that of which they wanted…
Bunny said no more, instead glaring openly at the looming darkness. Jack nodded quietly, leading the way down, down into the depths of the monster's lair. As they descended, the sound of dark laughter echoed around them.
Jack felt his footsteps hurry. Bunny followed in suit, concealing his blade behind the fold of his cloak once more. But his hand remained on the hilt.
"Where are we?" he began to ask, but the stairs finished and before them stood another door. It was a jar, letting the laughter rumble from within the dimly lit room on the other side.
"My Lord-"
"Sssh," Jack hissed, silencing his guard. "When we are in that room, you do not speak. Glare all you want, but do not open your mouth." The Prince's voice, however quiet, resonated with such authority that Bunnymund darn't speak even then. He simply bowed his head, his lips sealed, eyes fearful from the sudden change in the boy's attitude.
Prince Jack pushed the door, stepping into the room.
The boys' arrival called for silence, bringing conversations to an abrupt halt. Dark eyes turned to him, calculating, suspicious…
The room must've held at least fifty men. Some were sitting on wooden chairs, accompanied by their guards that stood behind them, silent, using only their muscles and fierce glares to ward off anyone thinking their master was an easy target.
They formed a semi-circle, facing a man who was stood at the front. He was no one in particular; dressed in a peasant clothing like that of a farmer or a carpenter. No one special… but important all the same. For he was the reason the everyone had come here. That Jack had come here. Snuck out form his castle, ignored his itinerary of duties just to be here. And hopefully….
"Who are you?" the man asked, his nasally voice echoing in the damp cellar room. Jack concealed his glare behind a clam façade, raising his hand in partial greeting. "Just a new face," he said pushing himself past the men near him, towards the man at the front.
"But just a boy," another laughed, drawing a rumble of agreement from the others. "Where is your master?" another called, his tone one meant to deal insult. Jack just turned to him, narrowing his eyes slightly, the same authoritative tone he used with Bunny returning, although now with an added coldness.
"I am my own Master. You would do well to remember that."
At first, the man looked shocked, surprised that anyone had the nerve to talk to him in such a way. But the shock quickly turned to anger and embarrassment. "Watch it," he snarled, his men behind flashing their glares to emphasis their master's words.
The swift sound of an unsheathed sword echoed in the small, dank room and suddenly, all eyes were on Bunnymund. He was the culprit of drawing his sword; the clean metal shining in the dark, reflecting fear and greed of the monsters that surrounded him. His magnificent blade was directed at the foolish master who dared speak ill will to his Prince.
A silent threat.
A silent promise.
It didn't matter that no one knew exactly who Jack was. He would protect the Prince's honour with his life, as he always had.
"Try it," he growled, his voice deadly quiet, the words echoing in the silence like the cries of a lonely ghost that still haunted souls after death. Each chilling word spoken with clear and calculated hatred.
A promise of death.
"Gentleman, gentleman," the host cried suddenly, forcing laughter in a feeble attempt to break up the tense atmosphere that was steadily building. He laughed nervously again, frantically looking back and forth between the guests.
The heads of the Underworld. Criminals that would turn this trade into a bloodbath in a second, if only for relishing in the taste of blood for which they had depraved themselves from for too long…
With the quietest motions from Jack, Bunny sheathed his sword. He joined the boy on the other side of the room, counting the number of weapons and the buffoons that belonged to them.
Guards and Masters. Some obviously well-equipped and most likely, well trained with the weapons they carried. Maces and bludgeons. Strength weapons. Not skill.
Bunnymund could face them. He could kill them all, if that was what it would come to.
But for now, he needn't. He glared openly at one guard, forcing the man out of his chair with a simple narrowing of his eyes, pulling the piece further from the sickening low life scum that surrounded them. Still, it wasn't far enough for his liking. The guard stood between his ward and the monsters. If only for peace of mind.
"I apologise for interrupting your petty business schemes," Jack drawled, in a voice that said he couldn't care less about what his actions brought about. He sat himself in the chair, motioning for the trader to continue.
Bunnymund was shocked by this show of hostility, trying to ignore the subtle feeling that maybe, not all of the Prince's act was the result of pretence.
Jack too, was distracted, although by his own thoughts, rather than the peculiarity of the situation. He thought of his Father's meetings and how everyone turned to the man when he spoke. It didn't matter if he was leading a meeting between Knights, or a peace meeting between country leaders. Even orders given to castle staff.
It wasn't about status or hierarchy. The King always gained respect of those around him, no matter where he was.
And now, Jack needed the same effect. He needed for these people to realise that he was powerful. That he held something over them. But he couldn't reveal his title just yet. It would scare the rats back into their nests before he set his trap.
He needed them to fear him.
The Prince sat himself properly, deliberately pulling his hood to cover more of his face once more. With one hand, he subtly tugged on his cloak sleeve so that it slipped to reveal his golden rings and bracelet.
"I came to inspect your merchandise. I hope, for your sake, it is amusing," he said, speaking clearly, his tone as cold as he could force it.
When the boy looked back up, he could see everyone's hungry, but wary eyes. Caution had several take a step back.
They knew not who this boy was, nor why he was here.
One man in particular, just smiled. He rested his chin on his hand, his angular face tilted slightly as if the prospect of the Prince in this dank damp cellar was amusing. Oh yes, the man knew it was the Prince. He had been able to see his distinctive white hair and his eyes were clear enough to notice the royal insignia on the boy's ring finger.
And those ghostly blue eyes were not jewels a mere peasant would possess.
"I must say, I'm surprise to see you here," he said, smiled a little, pushing himself forward off the chair he had claimed.
Jack hadn't noticed him on his arrival. It was as if the man had formed himself from the darkness. He wore a black cloak that melted into the floor, and into his skin, as if the cloak was darkness itself. Shielding him.
Jack turned to the man opposite him, his eyes narrowing at the tone, and choice of words used. So he was here all along…
"I wouldn't have guessed someone with your standing or… calibre… would dream of entering our lonely realm." The man's eyes glinted, his sneer widening when he noticed the boy's open half a millimetre.
He knew. Already, he knew…
Jack knew this man. He was the reason he was here after all.
And he knew he was dangerous. Even those that shared his filthy blood were scared of him.
He had built himself a wall out of fear, clear by the emptiness of the chairs around him, the way the men nearest to him shied away, their eyes trained on one thing in particular as if to distract themselves from his presence. Even the Master of the House dared not interrupt.
"Can one not venture past his boundaries? Can one not want to explore what the darker side of life may offer?" Jack said coolly, rising to the challenge set before him. He would play this game. He would win this game.
The man smiled, as if Jack's words brought amusement. "Of course. One must drink the poison to truly understand its worth. Only then, can you fully accept man's most basic of needs. Greed and gluttony. Theft and Pride."
The room grew colder with every word the man spoke. Jack could feel it. He just chose to ignore it, instead, deciding to match the man's attitude. He refused to be put in his place by any one man, no less a monster.
And yes, this man was a monster. He wore the skin, the clothes of a peasant, but it was clear in his animalistic grin that he was concealing his fangs. He had hidden his fangs, his claws and his tail so that he could walk among the Humans and prey on those weaker than he….
"Murder. Adultery," the man continued, leaning forward with every new word. "But my personal favourite is lust." The man laughed darkly, waiting for Jack. They were playing chess. It was all a game…
"Then you waste your time," the Prince said calmly, the coldness of his tone causing everyone to turn away. They paled, evermore with each word spoken.
"What good is lust? All it is, is a fleeting moment of heat and pleasure. You cannot obtain anything with it."
"Not even hearts?" the man asked, tilting his head much like a child would, when asking why was the sky blue.
Jack returned with coldness. "Hearts are won, lost and broken in an instant. If you want one, one that escapes you, then it is best to restrain it. Better yet, carve the heart out with your bare hands. Only then can you truly possess the hearts you desire."
The Prince listened to the echoes of his own cold words. Was this truly what he though?
He wasn't thinking as he threw words like knives to his enemy. But now spoke, he could fell himself riled by the tension. The hatred.
"But why stop at hearts. Why not take men, woman, children to be yours. Nothing more than pets, possessions, things that you own. Build your kingdom, your empire from their blood and broken bones."
No. This wasn't him. This was the darkness seeping into his skin. The magic of a master tattooing the ink of deception across his heart.
"Rule with fear and without compassion. Be above everyone and everything. To be a man is nothing. To be everything, a man has to become a God."
Jack's throat felt tight. The anger, deep seated beneath his façade was freezing. His fingers to bone, his blood to ice. The very air he breathed froze on his lips from the coldness of his heart.
No. No!
"No truer words have been spoken, My Lord," the man said, bowing his head low. "Like always, you are the wisest." The glint remained in his eye, his tongue nipping at his lips like a predator hunting prey, already imagining the succulent taste of blood running down its throat, even before the chase and the thrill of the hunt.
Before the death.
"Excuse me," came a small timid voice, from the Master of the House.
And the spell was broken.
The Master of the House took a step towards the centre, eyes on him. It seemed he was braver than Jack thought; breaking the tension between the Prince and the stranger. "Are the two of you acquainted?"
Jack and the man sneered, replying in unison: "not in the slightest." And that was the end of the conversation. They smiled to the other, the notion not meeting their eyes.
"Ah, yes," the man at the front said, clapping his hands together. "Let's return to the business at hand." He clapped again, turning with wide arms to attract attention once more. And as if it had never been, the toxic atmosphere disappeared, returning to the unsightly cellar of a back alley pub.
"We have one more item in our showcase," the man said, licking is lips, obviously excited. And relieved that business was returning to normal without the carnage of murder. It was bad for business after all.
"This is a special treat, courtesy of Master Pitch," he said, gesturing to the only man that had dared to cross hairs with the Prince.
Pitch just smiled. Jack detested that smile. He detested everything about the man, about this place. It cemented his courage. He would wait, wait until the perfect time to strike.
Pitch wouldn't escape him this time.
"Then let me bring out our last piece," the dealer said, motioning for one of his workers to retrieve the item. He slipped into the back room, through a door that had not been noticed. Jack followed the man with his eyes, feeling them narrow. He said nothing and waited, watching as other men murmured to one another, trying to guess what goods the man had brought.
And if there was anything from Master Pitch's reputation, it was going to be something spectacular.
The man returned, not long after, in his hands holding a chain. It clinked and jingled as the poor creature on the other end struggled against the man's wishes. Jack frowned, trying to prepare himself. It was probably an exotic creature; a cub separated from its mother. Already dead, skinned and sold. Something no one else possessed….
The chain was attached to a thick metal collar, tightly locked around the neck of a skinny, helpless boy.
He was unsteady on his feet, hiding his frail body behind hands that were locked in thick metal cuffs. Blood and blisters encircled beneath, tattoos of pain down his forearms. He wore a dirty bloody sheet, tied to tightly around his waist by a frayed yard of rope, as if even clothes were too much comfort to give.
Jack's eyes grew wide. The boy was in a terrible state. He was blindfolded, his faded crop of hair matted in places with dried blood. His wrists were thin, his body much the same. From the tops of the hessian, bones under stretched skin, each bump of rip visible underneath the rough burlap knit. Cuts and wounds covered his sunken face, his hands and arms from obvious wound of blades. Burn marks tattooed his neck, his bony fingers and the greying skin on the back of his hands, visible when he shielded his face from the hungry onlookers.
Underneath the layers of mud, grime and blood, Jack could see patterns of bruises. Black and blue, red and yellow. Old and new. Too many to count…
How this boy had suffered.
The man threw the boy into the centre of the circle. He couldn't keep his feet, crumpling to his knees, hands on the collar that was choking him. The restraint was pulled tighter, causing the boy to gasp for air. At the crowd's dark laughter, he was allowed to breathe.
Instead of trying to stand once more, he tried to curl up, his twig-like arms wrapping carefully around his stomach, his knees over his face with a silent shudder.
And there, on his back, was a large scar, branded onto him like a tattoo.
A dragon mark.
The mark of a slave.
He could feel Bunny next to him, hear the sound of the man's fingers on his sword hilt, the hitch in his breath at the treatment of this boy.
He understood why Bunnymund was so upset. The agonising memories. The pain and the guilt. The shouldered burden.
I'm sorry Bunny.
If I had known, I wouldn't have forced you to join me. But you're here now.
So help me save him.
Jack let his eyes scour again, his tongue dry when he saw more abuse.
His left leg was by far the worst. Carelessly bandaged with dirty cloth, the limb stopping at the knee. Only a wooden stump, a broken oak branch, remained, tied there with strips of material. The boy's hands hovered over the wood, his bottom lip quivering slightly, as if the fear was still there. As if the amputation was recent….
Jack felt sick staring at the boy's body, something twisting inside his chest. He could feel something inside wanting to get out. Anger, hatred….
A deep and dark desire he didn't know he had….
"See," came the putrid sound of Pitch's dark laughter.
The boy on the floor cringed, trying to cover his ears, to block out the noise of the monster. "Isn't Lust the darkest of sins? And the most beautiful."
Jack felt the group's primal lust grow. Men licked their lips, leaning forward in their chairs, their evil seeping out from the shadows. Their eyes were hungry. Their smiles were dark. And the boy was the perfect sacrifice.
"Sadly yes, you have noticed his missing leg," the dealer said, with no sympathy whatsoever. He held his hand out for the chain, ignoring the man when he was given it, giving his own tug for pleasure.
"It means this boy is not for hard labour, but maybe his beautiful body could be put to more… personal use…"
Beautiful? He was skin and bone! He was a stone's throw from death through starvation and entertainment of torture!
Jack watched the dealer lick his lips again, watching as he felt his anger grow.
How could they…
"His tongue has been removed to prevent any unwanted noise," he said moving closer to grab the boy by his hair, forcing his head back. The boy cried out from the sudden pain of the forced movement but instantly shut mouth again.
"But as you see, he still has a lovely voice."
The boy's body was shaking. Jack could see the blindfold getting wet around his eyes, before the sudden appearance of blood trails. The sign of the fresh crimson liquid had Jack's heart in pain. This boy. How much has he suffered already?
Jack felt his anger rise but willed himself to remain clam. "Why the blindfold?" he asked, his tone mimicking an air of disinterest.
I have to save him.
The dealer grinned, his eyes flashing with a darkness as he turned to Jack. "Oh. It was a surprise. But if the young master wants to see…" He smiled, but Jack's anger got the better of him. "See if I waste money on a slave who has had his eyes gouged out."
"N-not at all mi'Lord-"
"Then show me."
There was a flitter in conversation before the murmurs returned, this time excitement rousing the crowd. Recovering from Jack's coldness, the Dealer pulled a knife from his pocket, pulling the blade close to the boy's skin. He pressed it into his skin, digging his thumb into the boy's cheek until he cried out again, the missing tongue too much for Jack to look out.
He watched instead, the rust of the knife cut into the blindfold, see the trace of blood that bloomed from the new wound where the black market dealer took no care with the boy. He saw the cut, hear the whimper as they boy tried to contain his fear…
I have to save him.
The shredded cloth of the dirty blindfold was removed and Jack could see all of the boy's face. His skin was paler than most, not as pale as Jack, but it was clear he wasn't sun-kissed.
He had freckled beneath his tightly shut eyes, small lips and gentle features.
Jack could see why men would want to bed him. He could see why vulgar men would want to taint the natural beauty, the handsome face tainted by blood he had been forced to bled. Dirt of a prison he had been trapped in.
Fresh tears traced clear marks down his cheeks.
I have to save him.
The dealer smiled again, waiting. It seemed he was confused that Jack hadn't reacted as he had expected. He glanced down to the slave, his anger spiking when he saw the tightly shut eyes.
"Open your eyes for the Young Master," he spat at the boy. the boy kept his eyes closed, trying to turn his face away. "Why you…" the Dealer pulled the boy closer, choking him with the collar. With the back of his hand, he slapped him from across the face, pulling another whimper from the boy's lips.
"As you can see, he can be stubborn. But with a firm hand, I'm sure you can train that out of him." There was dark laughter amongst the men' their savage lust making Jack cautious. He could feel his own dark something pooling somewhere in his chest.
What was this dark desire? What were these dark thought Jack had?
He wanted to see the boy cry more. He wanted to hear him whimper in pain. He wanted to see his body laid before him, shaking, begging-
NO! Jack didn't want this. He wanted to save the boy, to take him from this hell. How could he hurt this boy, make him suffer anymore than what he had?
Jack could feel something dark in the air. Was it these men's feelings that were plaguing him, tempting him to join their cruel nature? Like poison, creeping through his body. A dark poison that only brought pain and suffering and hatred.
Hatred. Jack hated everyone in this room.
He would kill them all. Kill…
Kill...
KILL!
"My lord, calm down," came Bunnymund's soothing voice. He moved his hand, forcing Jack's hood further down to shield the white fringe that had peeked from under his cowl.
"Calm down," he said again, forcing the boy to listen. He could see Jack's pain. Much like his own, he couldn't bear to see this boy suffer.
Just like he had.
"Open your eyes," the Dealer hissed, unaware of the discontent in the crowd. He was enjoying himself, hitting the boy as much as his cruelty would allow, revelling in the whimpers he brought, encouraged from the coaxing of the men behind him. He beat the boy again, knocking him back to the ground.
The collar choked him, the binds tightening around his throat. He gasped for breath, his chained hands clawing at the metal in a feeble attempt to free himself. Or to at least be able to breathe.
Slowly, the slave opened his eyes. They began to water, filling with fresh tears as he glanced back and forth from the men that wanted to possess him, to hurt him, to break him…
Jack forgot his anger. He forgot his distaste and hatred with the greed of the monsters that surrounded him.
The boy…
His eyes…
They were green. The purest of green that Jack had ever seen. Greener that the jade of the ever green forest. Purer than the emeralds that were embedded in the gold of the treasures he possessed. Like soft springs figs. Like gentle water weeds that grew in the rush of the summer river. Flecked with gold, sparkling like precious gems still buried in the folds of mountain rock. Shimmering with light, like stars in the night sky.
Light that did not belong here, surrounded by demons and monsters. trapped here in the depths of hell.
I will save him! I have to!
The boy met Jack's own cold blue eyes and his chilling façade. The anger, not directed at the boy, but on the wounds that had been inflicted on him. Outrage, to the men that had dared victimise this boy in such a way.
Resentment….
Revenge. That called for Death. Murder of every foul demon here.
The boy flinched in fear, shutting his eyes immediately. He tried to pull away from the dealer, ignoring the pressure on his neck, cutting off his air supply. He wept from the fresh blisters on his neck, where the skin and sweat, blood and dirt had rubbed to make the skin raw.
The dealer just laughed, kicking the boy as he stood up, giving one more yank on the chain for extra measure.
"At what price would you start the bidding," someone asked, his eyes wide in delight as he envisioned ways of… training the boy into submission. The Dealer laughed, a greedy glint in shi eye, his dark desires getting the better of him. "Bidding would start at seventy crowns."
"I'm taking him."
Jack spoke with such power and hatred in his voice that the men closest to him shivered, shifting in their seats so that they could put more distance between themselves and the boy.
Pitch laughed to himself, leaning back in the chair as the events unfolded, hiding himself in a cape of shadows. He was enjoying himself.
Yes, it was definitely worth selling this slave. Especially if his next victim would be the Crowned Prince.
The slave shivered, whimpering again, trying to hide himself under his hands. Jack caught sight of the fresh tears and the burns again, feeling his anger only grow.
Jack fixed the Dealer with a cold glare, feeling his lips curl when the man flinch, shying away from him. The pale skin, the sweat on his brow. The fear in his eyes.
Such power… Was fear power? This feeling…
This assurance that Jack was superior to these mongrels. They were nothing. Not even dirt beneath his feet…
"I'll be taking him."
Every man stared at the cloaked boy, confused and shocked, but still silent. Even Bunnymund fixed the Prince with a questioning look. No, he was simply waiting to see what the boy would do. But he barely received a glance as Jack stood up. The Prince stepped forward, confidently snatching the chain from the dealers hand, barely able to control his anger.
One word to Bunny and everyone in this room could be killed… One word…
Jack stepped back, pulling the chain slightly. He didn't mean to. He was trying to contain the darkness in his heart.
The desire for death and blood and destruction. calling fro the slaughter of everyone here. If only he had his blade. Then he could kill them all himself. Smite every last bastard that dared-
Jack turned back to the boy still lying on the floor. He was watching him with fearful eyes, fresh tears streaming down his face. It was just too heart breaking to watch.
In once fluid motion, Jack unclasped his cloak and threw it over the boy.
It revealed the Prince's crisp white hair and his pale features, his royal uniform and the royal insignia woven onto his pale-blue uniform, but Jack didn't care. He only had eyes for the boy.
The boy that was scared by the motion of his new Master, his eyes wide as the cloak covered his body and manky cloth that had been shielding what little abused skin he could.
Immediately, the dark dungeon was filled with noise. Fearful murmurs, worried voices. "The Prince?" "Why is he here?" "What could this mean?"
Jack ignored the men that whispered to one another, simply reaching down to pull the boy to stand. He tried not to focus on the way the boy flinched, the uncertainty in his actions as he tried to pull away from the hand that gripped him. "Bunny," Jack said, his eyes not leaving the slaves face.
Bunnymund stepped forward. Silently and calmly. He swept the slave into his arms, gripping his limbs tightly when the boy started to flail. "Calm down," he said in the same tone he used when berating his soldiers.
Immediately the boy fell silent, returning to just tremble in the man's arms. Everyone in the room was silent. Even Pitch, who was still watching, his lips curled back to reveal his pointed teeth, his yellow eyes watching, planning….
"W-why are y-you here?" the dealer stammered, suddenly backing up to the far wall, the first to speak.
Jack simply ignored him. He led Bunny to the door, the monsters parting as if the boy held some great force over them. He only looked back once or twice, to check on the boy in Bunny's arms. He could see the top of his head; bloodied matts amongst the chopped locks. The shivering of fear.
His eyes darted to the corner, seeking the man who was no longer in the shadows. He was gone. Of course he was.
Jack had focused on this slave and let his true target disappear. Again.
Another glanced to the back room, as if debating his own escape. "Do not move," came Jack's snarl. The man flinched and remained where he was.
Everyone parted for the Prince to pass, all silent, as he led to the back of the room. He climbed the stairs, forcing himself to keep walking. He continued on though the dingy pub and out into the street, where the entire castle guard were waiting.
Sir Eret was sat astride his mount, directing orders for the men to raid the building as soon as he caught sight of the Prince. "I'm glad to see you safe, M' Lord," he said, dismounting, to approach the boy and his guard. He dropped to one knee, his arm crossed over his body in salute.
"We've surrounded the building. No one will escape."
"Very good," Jack smiled, the notion worn and thin. Now that he was out of the cellar, his head seemed clearer. He took a moment to compose himself, locking away the desire to kill.
Those thoughts… He had never had them before. Like whispers from the shadows, they had encouraged him to slay and slaughter. They were so powerful, so controlling, that Jack thought he would've given in.
Bunnymund looked confused at the sudden arrival of the castle guard, but let them pass him anyway. He remained beside his ward, who had already dismissed Sir Eret to continue with his duties.
Prince Jack ignored the soldiers, turning to where Alpha stood waiting. The Bewilderbeast trotted forward, lowering his head in greeting. Jack answered in kind, running his hand up the creature's snout, before raking a tight grip of the reins and hoisting himself into the saddle.
"Pass him to me," he asked his guard, his arms outstretched, waiting for the gently wrapped bundle. Bunny did not utter a word, silently lifting the slave into Jack's waiting arms, before whistling for Cloudjumper who was stood a little way aways', away from the guards that were storming the building.
"My Lord?"
"We're heading home Bunny. Come."
Jack clicked his heels, willing Alpha to move forward. He nodded to Eret as he passed, trusting the man to tie up any loose ends. Pitch would have to wait.
But in the meantime, he needed to care for this boy, whom he had saved from the clutches of evil men.
"Don't worry," he whispered to the boy. The stress was too much for him, it seemed he hadn't been able to hold onto his conscious. Tears stained his face, his lips murmuring silent words in his sleep.
"I'll make them pay. I'll make them all pay."
So... Thoughts?
Do let me know. I love feedback.